It all started very innocently. It was one of many pleasant evenings during our travels around the Solomon Islands. Braňo and I were on the island of Gizo, in its eponymous main town. The day’s bustle was slowly dying down and we were gradually, but surely, being overcome by hunger.
We headed out into the streets. But don’t get any naive ideas. The town is relatively small; you won’t find any busy promenades here, more like quiet lanes. There are usually very few tourists. Finding a restaurant here isn’t exactly an easy matter either. According to the map there were two at the time – and that was still the case at the time of writing this article. Fortunately they are next to each other, so we head in their direction.
One is called Waterfront and the other, somewhat unusually, PT-109. We assumed this strange name was a mistake on the map, so we headed to the first one. Unfortunately, when we arrived we found that Waterfront was closed. We had no choice but to try the unusual PT-109.
An Unexpected Discovery
To our surprise it was a real place and even an open restaurant. We sat down and ordered. Later Braňo began to notice the local decor. A heap of photographs from World War II, when American forces encountered the Japanese here. The restaurant’s decoration is period-appropriate; various artifacts from those turbulent times began to give us the impression that the secret code PT-109 meant something.
There is Wi-Fi, so we started Googling. After a few clicks an incredible story emerged that had been completely unknown to us until then — and which we certainly would not have expected to find in this place.
The True Meaning of the PT-109 Code
It turns out that PT-109 was the designation of an American torpedo boat that operated in these waters during World War II. Its commander was none other than the future U.S. president — John F. Kennedy.
It was August 2, 1943, when PT-109, during a night patrol in the Blackett Strait, collided with the Japanese destroyer Amagiri. The huge ship literally cut the small boat in half. Two crew members were killed instantly; the others found themselves in the dark water far from any help.
Despite a back injury, Kennedy took command. He gathered the rest of the crew on the floating wreckage and after several hours they decided to swim to the nearest island. That island was then called Plum Pudding Island. Only later, after the war, was it renamed Kennedy Island (Kasolo Island).
For several days the crew hid, starved and hoped someone would find them. The turning point came when they met two local fishermen – Biuku Gasa and Eroni Kumana. They worked for the Australian intelligence and observation network of coastal patrols, which monitored the movement of Japanese units during the war, and they traveled between islands in a canoe.
Kennedy quickly realized they were their only chance. He carved a message asking for help on a coconut shell. That very coconut shell became the key to saving the entire crew. The message reached American forces and within a few days all survivors were rescued.
After the war the story of PT-109 became a legend in the U.S. Kennedy often mentioned it, and the coconut shell that saved his life was later displayed in the Oval Office of the White House.
Biuku Gasa and Eroni Kumana were invited to Kennedy’s inauguration. However, the colonial authorities decided that the journey would be too demanding for them and that they would not be suitable for such a lavish event as the inauguration. Instead, other representatives who had nothing to do with the rescue operation were sent to the U.S. Thus the real heroes remained at home — without fame, without recognition, without benefits. Their names only began to return to history many years later.
Off to Kennedy Island!
As we read this almost unbelievable story, we quickly searched the map for the exact location of Kennedy Island and discovered something else incredible. It’s only a few kilometers from us. The decision was immediate and without hesitation. Tomorrow we’re going to Kennedy Island!
The next day we arranged a boat and a local fisherman willing to take us to the island. We set off directly from Gizo and headed for the island we had learned so much about the day before. We passed a smaller island with the local airport and continued east.
Before we reached the island we took a short break at one of the many coral reefs. Braňo’s goal was clear — to catch a decent fish for lunch with a harpoon. While Braňo fished, I snorkeled in the crystal-clear water. The marine life was captivating to me. I didn’t see any large fish, but it was still a beautiful sight.
After a few minutes this idyll was interrupted by Braňo’s report — he announced that lunch had been caught. We returned to the boat and, confident we wouldn’t starve today, headed for Kennedy Island.
The Island That Saved the President
At first glance the island doesn’t differ from the many others we’ve seen here. You can more or less tell from a distance that there’s something interesting by the small jetty built for potential visitors. The island is small, about 180 meters long and at its narrowest point just under 100 meters. There are two maintained beaches, a small exhibition of wartime artifacts and a small shelter. A local caretaker looks after it all. We are the only visitors here; everything the island offers is just for us, so we decide to stay a while.
Together with the fisherman who brought us here we set up a makeshift fire while Braňo prepared the fish for roasting. In the end the fisherman showed us how the local people cook fish — it’s more like slow steaming and smoking under banana leaves. The preparation is slower for it, but the fish tastes good. After a good lunch we rested. Me on the beach, Braňo even stretched out his hammock for this purpose. We felt a bit like we were in paradise. The views of the endless sea and other islands in the distance were calming. Before leaving Braňo pulled out a drone and took a few shots of this extraordinary place.
The Coincidence Behind It All
When we later returned to Gizo, we gradually realized one more thing. If it weren’t for that one closed restaurant, we might never have learned about the story of PT-109. Perhaps we would never have gone to Kennedy Island and discovered such an extraordinary place that had literally been right under our noses all along.
It’s these kinds of coincidences that make travel what it is — a series of small detours that sometimes lead you to the most interesting stories.